Yesterday’s void Pisces moon was rough. I felt like I was under water. I couldn’t catch my breath. As I drove Lyndon to school and myself to work, in my head I kept yelling, “Where are you, God? Where are you?” Lyndon watched me loudly breathe in and out, in and out, and told me, “It’s OK to cry, Mom.” I snapped at him. “I don’t want to cry. I just want to breathe.” My head was foggy and I was overwhelmed. Why are we here? How do we all go on?

When I got to work there was a Mass for the Feast of St. Francis. Two Franciscan Brothers celebrated their 50th anniversary of service. Their friend, a nun in her 90s, came for the mass and we all rallied to make her physically comfortable: A padded cushion for her chair, fresh fruit, a bottle of water. Would you prefer to use your cane now or your walker? Two male teachers stopped their brisk walk in the hallway to welcome her back to the school. They gently leaned in to listen to her soft, shaky voice.

Later that afternoon at home as the moon changed sign to Aries, I had a Skype session with a client across the world who had been experiencing a scary, tumultuous phase. Yet she was calm, powerful, and grounded.

Before today’s full moon in Aries the moon opposed Mercury in Libra and soon Venus will join with Mars in Virgo. There’s symbolism of partnership and fight, peace and strength, and boots-on-the-ground work.

This morning as I drove Lyndon to school, I could breathe. I wasn't silently yelling at God. Lyndon was thoughtful and chatty. "You know," he said, "I kind of believe in quantum theory." "Oh really?" I asked. "Yeah. There's this idea that alternate realities exist. Maybe you had Cheerios today, but imagine you had Honey Nut Cheerios instead. Or even pancakes. Each choice sets something different in motion that exists at the same time."

He humored me as I feebly joked about the yellow-to-red light I had just gone through. Was it actually yellow or actually red? Then he went on. "And there's another thing called Shrodinger's Cat. There's this cat in a cardboard box with a live electrical wire. You can't really see the cat. Is it alive or is it dead? It really gives you perspective." "Yes, it does," I agreed. "But there's more than two choices," he continued. "Did the cat touch the wire and still live? Did it not touch the wire and live? You can see how it gets really complicated." "I can," I agreed. We kissed each other Goodbye and he left the car, his heavy backpack curving his small shoulders forward.

Later I googled Shrodinger's Cat. Shrodinger actually used the thought experiment to discourage people from "accepting as valid a 'blurred model' for representing reality" when they could directly observe certain realities instead. In other words, "Look in the box, people." (He also envisioned a steel chamber and a radioactive substance, but Lyndon's version is close enough.)

There are some realities that we've all become heartbreakingly aware of lately. We can't unsee what we've seen. Violence is violence. Tragedy is tragedy. It would be dangerous and cruel to call these things anything but what they are. It would be irresponsible to avoid dealing with them.

And yet, two weeks ago during the Virgo New Moon Mercury opposed Neptune in Pisces. The symbolism pushed us for the next four weeks to see things a little bit like Shrodinger and a little bit like Lyndon. How do reality and intuition blend? How can imagination or compassion elevate what we see and share with others?

Now, halfway through the cycle, what are we facing that scares us? Can what we've learned mobilize us? Can anything we've seen encourage us? Can it pacify us at all to know there's even more mystery, goodness, and possibility than we can see right now?

Wishing you the blessings of the full moon, and hoping you notice something today that you didn't yesterday, that fills you with courage and peace.